


Chosen of Gaia

by KnightWithAPassion



Series: Guardians of The Secret World [1]
Category: The Secret World
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2020-02-10 22:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18669547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightWithAPassion/pseuds/KnightWithAPassion
Summary: Dmitri Rozenov, a newly awaken Bee, finds himself thrown into the deep end and needs to wade through filth, horrors, and monstrosities in order to appease his handlers and get to the bottom of a massive conspiracy in The Secret World. A secret needing to be ripped from the jaws of an eight headed serpent upon a black tower.This fic is following the plotline of the MMO The Secret World. Note this will be a longer fic, so please bear with me as I work towards the conclusion.





	1. Old Beginnings

Dmitri stepped out of the massive lecture theatre, his small band of misfits following behind, each happy to escape the room. No one in the group really enjoyed the class, basic thermodynamics was probably the one class in the curriculum that Dmitri couldn’t stand, but he was glad that he could spend the time with his friends.

“You guys go on ahead, Mon and I have a class upstairs. We’ll catch up at four-thirty?” Dmitri waved off, his friends following suit as they headed down the stairs to the ground floor.

“I need to go to the bathroom quickly, mind if you wait for me?” Monique asked quietly. She always was a quiet girl, petite and a bit shy, but a brilliant and kind soul that was always willing to help anyone out, no matter what it was.

“Yeah sure, class doesn’t start for a bit, so go ahead.” He walked her across the hallway to the bathroom and stopped before the hallway split off, the ladies room door a few meters down a side corridor.

He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through Facebook, the same story about a terror attack in Tokyo shared by upwards of a dozen different pages. A chill ran down his spine and he pulled his jacket tighter, the dark leather contrasting against his pale skin and blond hair. He kept scrolling through his phone until he heard something from down the side corridor, something that sounded almost like a loud gasp.

He put his phone back in his pocket and turned down the corridor.

“Mon, everything ok?” He muttered as he knocked on the bathroom door. He felt a vibration in his pocket, a one-word message from Monique: Help.

Without hesitation, he pushed the door ajar and looked into the room to see the cubicle that he thought Monique was and heard some male voices saying something about a deal.

He stepped into the room and moved very slowly towards the cubicle. From here Dmitri could tell that the sound was coming from the closed shower door, a discussion that sounded heated from the hushed, aggressive tone of one man, whereas the other sounded calm and collected.

Dmitri knocked quietly on the cubicle door and whispered: “Mon, it’s me.”

He heard movement from behind the door and saw two feet come into view, previously held up behind the walls of the cubicle. The bolt retracted and the door slid open, a terrified look plastered all over Monique’s face.

“Come on, let's get you out of here.” He said quietly as he reached for her hand to lead her out, and moved them both towards the door as he heard one of the men from the other side of the shower door say loudly “Alright then, have it your way.” and the door slammed open.

The man was dressed in a bodysuit, black highlighted with purple accents along the arms and legs. On his boot was what looked like a combat knife, and his hip a pistol. He looked as surprised as Dmitri did.

“Mon, go get security.” He said, nearly ordered, as he stepped between his friend and the other man. “Go get them now.”

The man was still recovering from the surprise as Dmitri lunged at him, the younger man knocking the older onto his back. He turned to see the bathroom door swing closed, and a flood of relief washed over him.

Suddenly a fist connected with the side of Dmitri’s head, his body flung to the side as the man in purple began to rise to his feet. Pistol already in hand.

His heart froze as Dmitri stared down the barrel of the gun. The matte black of the pistol shone dully in the light. He looked into the gunman's eyes as the man said something, he couldn’t quite make it out as his blood seemed to start pumping again. Another man emerged from the shower, a man in a suit wearing a hat that obscured his face, what looked like an ankh in his hands. An Ankh of starred obsidian and gold that seemed to darken the space around it. A faint voice in the back of Dmitri’s head seemed to whisper to him. A sense of foreboding chilling him to his core.

Dmitri’s eyes trailed the suited man before they returned to the gunman's, his crystal blue eyes contrasting the man’s dark brown. “Who are you?” He asked, his voice calm and collected.

“Doesn’t matter, you won’t talk.” He bared his teeth, his faint Italian accent carrying the threat all the same. He moved to pull the trigger as the door was kicked open, a man in red standing in the doorway.

Dmitri kicked the gunman’s leg aside. He heard a loud bang as the gun went off. A loud ringing filled his ears. He felt something wet run down his left arm. The gunman hit the floor.

As the ringing began to subside and his heart slowly began to return to a regular beat, Dmitri looked over to the gunman. The man was on the floor, with a mysterious man standing over him, his knee lodged firmly between the gunman’s shoulder blades. He wore a deep red uniform, his pants and shoulders contrasting against the black body and arms, highlighted by a pair of white stripes along the button line. A large white cross emblazoned across his shoulder.

Suddenly, a large burning sensation hit Dmitri, his arm on fire and his nervous system cold as his body holds onto the shock of the wound. He looked down at his right arm and saw red. His crimson, wet blood covered his arm, the stream of it down his elbow and wrist, pooling on the floor. He raised his left hand to cover the wound, gripping it tightly to provide pressure. Pain continued to surge through the arm as his peripherals began to blur and darken.

He heard a gasp from the door and turned his head; Monique stood in the doorway, her hands on her mouth as the colour continued to drain from her face. Two men in fluorescent vests, the uniform of the campus security guards, behind her.

“Mon, you’re safe. Thank goodness” Dmitri said weakly as his vision continued to blur and darken. He slowly fell limp onto his back, falling onto something solid before he hit the floor.

He turned his head to see Monique on her knees, his back resting against her chest as she caught him. One of the guards moved to his right as the other moved to the mysterious man’s side as he held the now cuffed gunman securely. Tears began to run down the girl’s face as she looked his blood-ridden side up and down.

“Its ok Mon, it looks worse than it is.” He whispered quietly as his world rapidly began to darken, his eyes falling to the man in red before they fully closed.


	2. Cain and Seraph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waking up from a serious wound, taken from saving a friend from danger. Dmitri takes his first step in a deeper world of mystery and intrigue. Dmitri meets with two mysterious figures, each trying their hand at his ambitious fate.
> 
> This fic is following the plotline of the MMO The Secret World. Note this will be a longer fic, so please bear with me as I work towards the conclusion.

Light slowly began to return to Dmitri’s eyes as he came too. His eyes felt heavy as he tried to force them open. The light of his surroundings began to burn his eyes as he took it in; he lay in a bed, its sheets white and sterile. The nurse’s wing of his academy utilitarian and minimal, only a handful of beds which were all empty.

He tried to sit up until his head clouded, forcing him back down. His right arm felt numb, and his left felt weighed down.

Dmitri looked to his left and he could see a familiar bundle of dark red hair, worn in a ponytail. The head rose slowly, her eyes slowly meeting his. The light hazel of her eyes heavy, faint bags resting under them.

“Hey, Anna,” Dmitri said sheepishly.

Her eyes shot open fully and called out to the nurse. “He’s awake!” Before turning back to him. “You’re an idiot.” Anna chastised, face stern but her eyes worrying. “Why did you have to get yourself shot? You could have been...” Her voice trailed off, her grip on his forearm tightening anxiously.

“Hey. I’m fine.” He said slowly and deliberately. “It was only a scratch.”

“You got shot, I think that constitutes more than ‘a scratch’.” She paused and sighed, then rose to her feet. “You really are an idiot, you know.”

“I know.” He said sheepishly. “I had to though. You know that”

“One of these days, you’re going to get into real trouble, you know?” She said softly.

“And on that day, I hope you’ll be there to tell me ‘I told you so.’” Dmitri let out a quiet chuckle. “Didn’t you have class? Or work? Or both?” He scoffed. “I swear sometimes you take on the workload of three people, and still get better marks than me.”

“What can I say, sometimes I actually use this.” She paused as she tapped her temple. “Unlike someone I know.”

“Get going then.” He jested before his smile dropped into a sincere expression. “Honestly though, I’m fine. I’m sure I’ll be back in the dorms before you know it.”

“You’d better.” She muttered as she left the room, two nurses entering and replacing her presence at his bedside soon afterwards.

The rest of the stay in the nurse’s ward took less than 10 minutes. The nurses checked over the wound and replaced the bandage. They gave Dmitri a week’s worth of painkillers and a sling, with instructions to come back in a week for another examination. They said that the wound was clean and the damage was minimal but still warned him that he shouldn’t use that arm for the next few weeks, and that he was exempt from classes for the rest of the day.

“How long will it take before I’m back to normal?” He asked one of the nurses as she put the sling on him, a simple foam band tied around his wrist and wrapped around his chest.

“It's difficult to say. It could be months before you’re healed, but the muscle in your arm could be permanently weakened. We’ve arranged to call a physical therapist in a week, so we can arrange for any further pain killers as necessary.” The nurse smiled. Dmitri saw through the bedside manner but waved it off.

“Thank you. I’ll try not to do anything too crazy.” He jested as he rose to his feet. He was ushered out before the door closed behind him.

“Ok. Nothing too crazy.” He quietly repeated to himself as he moved down the corridor towards the dorms, hoping that if he kept saying it, it would stick.

The young man walked through the corridors of the academy, each hallway barren and bland in its design. It's cream walls surprisingly clean and its tile floors shining dully. He passed a few people on his way to his room, but no one he knew personally. There was a feeling at the base of his skull that left him on edge, his gut putting him on edge.

“Everyone must be on edge after the shooting.” He justified as he crossed the courtyard between the main building and the dorms. There was a small grassy patch on the edge of the courtyard, an ancient apple tree hung its bounty of budding apples just out of reach.

As he walked past the tree, a sound appeared just on the edge of his hearing. A faint buzz. He turned, struggling to see the source of the noise. It was a small honey bee, shining brightly in the afternoon sunlight. Suddenly, the feeling of unease dissipated, his nerves calm.

He smiled at the bee before he continued towards the dorms. His dorm was on the third floor, a short flight of stairs that kept him healthy enough from daily use. The room itself was unimpressive: a basic bedroom, a small ensuite, and a living room containing a table, and a couch. He threw himself down onto his couch, regretting his decision as he winced from the sudden movement of his arm.

Letting out a quiet sigh, he carefully re-positioned himself on the couch so that he could see out his small window, the late afternoon sun beaming through the glass directly onto his face.

Dmitri turned on the radio that sat beside him on the table and closed his eyes. He leaned back into the couch and relaxed, the yellow light calming him.

Dmitri began to drift off as the radio began to transmit news stories about the current world events. He let the sound get drowned out into the background for a few minutes before a report snapped him back into focus.

“In Tokyo, where the military is maintaining its guarding perimeter around the site of last month's terrorist attack. The Japanese Government has stated that an unidentified political group used a biological agent in the Tokyo subway. Just one kilometre from Orochi tower.” The radio blared.

“Orochi tower, that’s that new up and coming mega-corporation?” He asked himself quietly as the report continued.

“Although the area has been evacuated, there have been eyewitness reports of activity inside the quarantine, including ongoing fighting between Orochi security personnel, and armed civilians. Authorities are denying these reports and the military has barred anybody from approaching within one hundred meters of the temporary perimeter.”

Dmitri leaned over and turned the radio off as he was hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion. A dull pain resonating through his arm regardless of the painkillers he took.

He rose to his feet and slowly shambled to his bedroom and went to throw himself onto the bed. He paused for a moment before carefully lowering himself down instead.

The moment that Dmitri’s head hit the pillow, his world went black and he passed out. As he lay on his back, arm haphazardly strewn across his chest, a faint breeze rolled through the ajar window, carrying with it a small creature.

The bee lazily droned around the room, occasionally bumping into objects as it slowly found its way to its target, the sleeping man. It landed on his chin, its tiny legs carrying its furry yellow and black body towards his mouth. The insect paused on his lip as it seemed to look at him, then descended into his mouth.

Suddenly, Dmitri woke up in a completely alien environment: cracked earth and stormy skies for as far as the eye can see. In the sky hung boulders of varying sizes, seeming to spin around Dmitri where he woke.

He stood and looked down at what we was wearing, a strange black bodysuit covered his form, weird dull yellow circuitry worming across his limbs form a dully glowing core over his heart.

“You will see the end of days.” A loud, deep voice called from out of nowhere, the call filling his ears. “You will see the dawning of a new age.”

Dmitri tried to call out, to search his surroundings to find the voice, but his voice failed him and he was alone.

“To be a monarch, or a beggar.” Dmitri continued to try to find the man, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. “To lose everything, or become a god.”

A small figure appeared in front of the young man, its small insectoid wings lazily holding it aloft as it slowly flew past him. Close behind it was another bee, one drifting to his left, the other his right. For some reason the sight of the bees made him calm down, the thrum in his chest calming to a reasonable beat.

“To stand with us, or against us. The choice is yours. Remember this.”

Dmitri turned to look behind him, all around him was barren. Devoid. Lifeless. The shadows began to lengthen around him. Almost reaching for him. All he could see was the darkness, the crimson clouds, and the two bees, their wings droning a faint buzz.

“Be mindful of the voices;” Someone whispered from Dmitri’s flank. He turned to see a woman in a white gown, her hair a fair amber and her voice calming his heart. “Listen to the voices;” Another whisper appeared to his other side. A man with obsidian hair in a black suit, his voice charming but lulling. “They will whisper in your sleep.” They echoed, the woman a heartbeat before the man, putting them moment out of synchronization.

“You are with the chosen,” They say, her voice leading his. “But you must choose for yourself.” She concluded, while he began “but you must make the right choices.”

“You are cursed with free will,” This time he led her voice. “We are here to guide you to the light.” He muttered. “It is not my place to intervene, but then;” She trailed off.

“This is merely a dream. Make the right choices.” They say, her voice taking the lead once again. From the ground at Dmitri’s feet, a loud droning began to sound. A swarm of bees burst from the jagged, cracked earth. They started to swarm around his feet. They spiralled. A vortex of insects encircled him, with both figures flanking the swarm.

“Be mindful of the voices.” They both warned, in perfect unison. The vortex began to lift Dmitri off his feet and into the air. “For they corrupt.” She ended calmly, whereas the man finished with “for they speak the truth.” The man’s mouth perked up slightly, a smirk so minute that neither Dmitri nor the woman noticed.

The bees began to swarm more fiercely, raising him higher as the swarm funnelled into his mouth. The sudden swarm snapped him awake, tearing him from the barren dreamscape back into his bedroom, entering a coughing fit.


	3. One of the Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Dmitri has woken up with fantastical powers, a shadowy party has stepped forward and given Dmitri a chance to explore the new world that he has found himself in, and find the answers for these new questions he has found himself asking.

Dmitri took a few minutes for the coughing fit to subside, his lungs burning, his throat parched. A shiver hit his spine as he glanced for the open window, the chill winter air invading the room. He reached for his jacket, discarded on the foot of his bed.

As his hand touched the dark leather, a bright flash of blue light blinded the young man. He flinched. Instinctually shielding his eyes. His eyes adjusted slowly. A small blue flame sat on his jacket, no more than the size of a small campfire.

At first, Dmitri backed away, his hands raised to shield his face. But after a few seconds, curiosity got the better of Dmitri as he reached for the flame. It seemed to radiate energy, rather than heat. As his hand approached the flame, it went out. Dmitri shrugged it off as a hallucination and got up. 

Over the course of the next few days, the bursts of energy came more frequently and more aggressively. During the first day, Dmitri was sitting in a lecture theatre, taking down notes about mathematical modelling when he heard a panicked shout be called from behind him. He looked down at his pen and the instrument was enveloped with the same blue flames as the previous night. On instinct, he cried out in shock, and threw the pen away. Its flaming arc propelling it towards the rubbish bin at the front of the theatre. As soon as the pen landed in the bin, the flame extinguished.

The second day, he was in phys-ED. With his sling, he was excluded from each position on the Baseball pitch, except for pitching. The baseball he threw was enveloped in blue flames. The batter and baseman dodged out of the way at the last second, leaving a blackened net and a prestine ball. People began to avoid him, his friends excusing themselves from his company.

The third day he called in sick. The nurses said that there was nothing wrong with him, but his stomach felt like it was in a rolling storm. Random objects he touched caught ablaze around his dorm room, only for the flames to vanish as quickly as they appeared. He tried to keep himself to one corner of his bedroom, fearful of the damage he could cause around him.

The fourth was the worst for the young man. His skin crawled. His body burned with fever. He could feel the same energy that he felt on the first night after his dream. This energy surged through him hundredfold. Each burst sent pain through his limbs, his muscles, his bones. One large burst propelled him into the air, a constant stream of power holding him aloft as light spewed from his eyes and mouth. Then nothing. The power stopped and Dmitri fell into unconsciousness.

As Dmitri rose from his dreamless slumber, he felt different. His body felt lighter. Stronger. Faster. Dmitri focused on the palm of his hand and a small ball of blue flame appeared. Energy enveloped his hand but brought no pain. No heat. The youth tossed the ball in the air and caught it again, the near solid core of the flame falling perfectly into his grasp.

“This is so cool.” He muttered as he closed his hand around the ball of flame. He could feel the energy enter his hand. Feel it run up his arm. It flew across his body and into his other arm, where he conjured another fireball. A rush of endorphins followed soon after, flooding his brain with excitement. “Awesome!”

A sound broke up his fun. Three solid but not deafening raps sounded against the front door to his dorm room. Dmitri worked his way to the door, picking up slightly charred objects strewn around the room in a hopeless attempt to clean up after himself. He reached for the door handle, and hesitated. He slowly touched the handle, surprised to see that it didn’t catch fire. He jumped as three more raps sounded against the door, and opened it.

In the doorway stood a woman in a plain white blouse and nice black pants. She carried herself with an air of authority and confidence, both dwarfing Dmitri’s in his current state. Her shoulder-length brunette hair was well-groomed, and her outfit showed no signs of creases or wrinkles. Around her neck sat a red and black pendant in the shape of a cross.

She stepped forward as Dmitri still tried to process what was happening. “Good Afternoon. Are you...” She trailed off as she peered behind him at the state of his room. Possessions littered across the floor. Furniture either out of place or thrown onto its side. “From the look of things, I guess that question is moot. Bee problem?”

She stepped past the boy and into the room. “There’s a lot of that going around.”

“And you are?” He turned to face the mysterious woman; eyebrow raised.

“I represent an organisation headquartered in London. A very large organisation with branches all over the globe, and connections in every government. All though we see ourselves as a...” She took a pause. Dmitri was unsure if she was collecting her thoughts or trying to prove a point in dramaticism. “A silent partner.”

She stepped further into the room and ran her hand along a scorch mark burned into his kitchenette countertop. Dmitri took a step towards her and asked, “What do you do?”

“We pull strings. Big strings: Prime Ministers. Presidents. Kings.” She turned back to the youth and looked him dead in the eye, her aura suppressing his. “Dark days are coming, the world is in turmoil, and we’re recruiting. Soldiers. Agents. Adventurers.”

She paused again for a moment before she pulled a small coin out of her pocket and flicked it towards Dmitri. He caught it in both hands and inspected the gold token. A lion head on one side, and a large cross on the other. The four tips of the cross flared out to flat edges. The cross mirrored that of her pendant in all regards save the colour. “Crusaders.” She finished with a proud smirk.

“And we offer good terms.” Her mood suddenly dropped. The pride in her stance being overtaken with professional confidence. “A fresh start, a network unlike any other, unlimited resources, a fantastic medical plan, and a way to harness and use your incredible powers.”

Dmitri was taken aback by the implications of her statement. How did she know? “I don’t know if I—”

“It may be a big transition, but look at it this way. This is a unique opportunity.” She interrupted, stepping closer to him. “You have been chosen. You have been granted powers greater than most can imagine.”

She stepped closer to him again. He felt smaller in her presence. “So, you can either be an outcast in a world that can never understand or accept what you have become.” She paused again. “Or you can join others like you. Take a stand against the rising darkness. And embark into a journey into the unknown, into the hidden places, into the secret world.” 

Her eyes locked with his. The bronze in her eyes was as mesmerising as her commanding aura. He opened his mouth, trying to say something before she raised her finger and silenced him. “The choice, as they are so fond of saying, is entirely yours. But know this. Your emerging powers will attract plenty of attention.”

“On your own, you’d be easy prey. You might not last the week.” Her voice was low as she towered over him, regardless of the several inches he stood over her. A shiver ran up the full length of his spine.

She took a step back from him. His eyes followed her a second later, his mind still processing what she said. She pulled a letter out from a small belt pouch nestled in the small of her back. “This will get you where you need to go. There are instructions inside; use it or don’t, it’s your prerogative.”

“You won’t see me again. I trust you’ll make the right decision.” She proclaimed as she walked through the still-open door. Before she left his view however she turned back and gave him the same proud smirk she gave before. “By the way, our organisation is called the Templars. You might have heard of us; we’ve been around a while. Good Day.”

Dmitri looked down from the empty doorway and down at the letter in his hands. The front contained no discernible markings of any kind; the back a wax seal of a cross.

“They really like their crosses.” He remarked quietly before he stepped forward and closed the door, then broke the seal. As he broke the seal, he could feel a strange tingling run through his fingers into the wax, the same feeling he got when he conjured those balls of fire earlier in the afternoon.

Inside was an unassuming letter, a British train ticket, and a plane ticket. The letter only contained some very vague instructions: An address, Ealdwic in London, a date, the day after tomorrow, and a name, Richard Sonnac. It was a test he assumed. The ticket was equally baffling, an unmarked ticket with a Q-R code, but no flight number, date, or departure location.

Dmitri took the letter and went to his laptop. Curious about the information, he booted up Google and tried to find what information he could about this group.

Ealdwic was a small suburb in southern London. Nearer the older centre of town than the more modern outskirts, but any more information past that was scarce. The name Richard Sonnac also came up blank. There were no results in the search.

“That’s, weird.” Dmitri pondered as he reached for his phone and went to his Q-R Code reader. When he scanned the code on the plane ticket, he was redirected to a flight agency and given brief information about a flight. Tomorrow at 3 pm, his local airport, 30kg baggage.

“Well, now I have a time. Time to get packing.” He said hesitantly. Tomorrow was a Friday, which he had off, so this trip wouldn’t impede his studying severely, but it left a sour taste in his mouth.

He quickly threw together a travel bag with enough clothes to last him for a few days. Most of his wardrobe was charred from the previous night so he was restricted in how much he could pack.

A high-pitched beep caught his attention, an alarm signifying his next class sounded from his smartwatch on the floor by the coffee table.

He cursed as he ran around his room, grabbing his watch, backpack, and an apple from the counter, before he ran out the door to his next class. As he ran to the auditorium, absentmindedly devouring the apple in his hand, he considered whether he should still be attending classes given everything that’s happened so far.

He was snapped out of his deep thoughts as he burst into the auditorium, and all eyes fell on him. He bowed a quick apology to the professor and dashed inside to a free seat. Any free seat. His cheeks burned crimson in embarrassment.

The lecture flew past Dmitri. His attention split between the words coming from the professor before him, and the words from the woman before. The same line echoed in his head. “You are one of the chosen.”

He tried to snap back into focus on the board in front of him, but something kept dragging him back into a trance. A faint voice crept into the back of his mind, a woman’s voice. She whispered, “Be vigilant.” As another sensation hung around the base of Dmitri’s spine. One of dull pain and static. For the remainder of the class, he tried to pinpoint his focus on the professor, but he constantly felt his attention start to slip away.

The bell rang, and its attention was pulled back into the moment. On his way out of the room, he was flagged down by the professor. “Dmitri, could you please stay for a moment.”

“Sure, professor.” He sat down in the front row of the hall and waited for the other students with questions to leave. When they were alone the professor leaned against the podium and crossed his arms.

“So, Dmitri. I’m here to ask you about Annabeth.” He said slowly and deliberately. “I know she’s your friend, but she missed classes this week, along with you.”

“I don’t know if you’re skipping classes together, and it's not my place to say, but you both missed an important lab session, and will need to make up the time if you want to pass the unit.”

“Wait, Anna skipped class?” He said, dumbfounded. “I haven’t seen her in about a week. Since, you know,” He gestured to his right arm, still slung.

“Yes, I’m aware of your incident, this is a courtesy more than anything.” He paused as he glanced behind Dmitri for a moment, then back at the student. “Next lab session, I expect both of you to be there.”

“Beware.” The same voice called to him, from the very edge of his hearing. A chill ran down his spine. He turned around. There was a, thing. Human-like appearance. Elongated arms. Razor-sharp fingers. Translucent. A spectre.

Dmitri stood dead still, his eyes fixed on the spectre. Its neck flinched awkwardly. Unnaturally. Its hands raised as it drifted towards him.

“I’m sorry, boy. She needs you, or she takes me.” The professor seemed to mumble before Dmitri felt two strong arms wrap around him, leaving him restrained before the spectre. He tried to resist, but the older man was unnaturally strong. The spectre moved closer, its movements jarring and sudden in impossible directions.

Dmitri racked his brain on how he could escape. His every other thought drawn back to what was happening. It moved closer. His eyes locked onto its hollow sockets. He could feel anger. Malice. Hunger, radiating from it. It reached its claw-like fingers towards Dmitri’s chest. Its fingers were ice cold against him, even through his shirt. Pain radiated from where the fingers pierced his flesh. A terrible pain that caused him to cry out. The professor's hand silenced him, leaving his right arm freed from his grasp.

Dmitri did all he could do. He grabbed the spectre’s arm with his right hand and tried to push it away. His hand burned from the cold. Frostbite, he imagined. Then his hand began to burn from the heat.

Flame enveloped his palm and licked around his wrist. Blue flames seared the spectre and caused it to flinch. It started to pull back from him. He felt the professors' grip loosen around him.

Dmitri threw his head back and slammed the back of his skull into the professor’s nose. He felt something give and the grip loosened further.

“Let go of me!” He cried out as he struggled against both assailants. He could feel a swirl of energy build inside his chest, just under the claw wounds. He felt it rapidly build until it burst like a dam, energy running through his arms and past his hands.

The flame in Dmitri’s right hand flared brightly. He flinched from the inferno as the spectre in front of him combusted in his grasp. The professor recoiled from his grapple, hand shielding his burnt face from the sweltering heat. Dmitri could feel the flames against his skin, the blistering heat searing his skin. He didn’t care.

He stepped into the spectre, his grip like a vice as more flames surged from his hand. It cried out an inhuman wail as it died, leaving Dmitri clutching at thin air.

He turned to find the professor gone. The flames died down in his hands. The sudden pain was excruciating as he could feel his skin sear in the cool air. He looked down to see his scorched hands laid out before him. The palms seemed to be intact but the outer forearms, the back of his hands, and up to his left shoulder were covered in reddened flesh.

Dmitri sank to his knees and bit back a torrent of pained tears. He stomached the pain as he re-slung his right arm and began to limp his way to the nurse’s station.

As he walked, he could slowly feel the burning in his arms subside. His skin began to lose the red colour that clung to it. Halfway to the nurses Dmitri flexed his left arm and felt no pain.

Confused, he turned around and made his way back to his room. ‘I must have overreacted’ he thought on route. ‘It mustn’t have been that bad.’

Dmitri opened the door to his apartment and threw himself onto his couch. He felt exhausted suddenly. His eyes felt heavy in his skull as he felt like he was sinking deeper into his couch. Knowing that he would almost certainly wake up if he moved, Dmitri let unconsciousness take him.

Dmitri woke from his dreamless sleep, head clouded in a groggy haze. He rose from the couch and stumbled to his kitchenette and made himself breakfast on muscle memory. Time seemed to pass quickly for him, as when he looked at the clock on the mantle, it was nearly 11 am.

“Must have slept like a rock.” He muttered to no one in particular, then got up and started to pack his bags. “Someone has to have answers, I know it.”

He tried to ignore the memories being summoned from the back of his mind. Of the spectre attacking him. Of the professor sacrificing him. Of the pain he felt. His chest stung at the memory.

Dmitri slowly took off his shirt, being careful with his right arm, and inspected the wounds he received. Five trails of blood had dried on his chest, but he found no wounds, nor scars.

“That’s, weird.” He made his way to his bathroom and got a wet cloth to clean his chest of the blood. After the stains were removed it was very clear that there were no wounds present. “Must have been something to do with the ghost,” Dmitri said, still unconvinced. And returned to packing his bag.

After an hour, Dmitri left his room with a suitcase and carry bag, containing a laptop and other daily items. On his way out of his room, Dmitri took a small detour down a level, into the girl’s dormitories. He stopped by a familiar door and went to knock before he heard a rather unfamiliar sound coming from the other side of the door. The sound of sobbing.

“Hey, Anna?” Dmitri knocked on the door quietly. “Are you there?”

He saw movement under the door, a shadow shifting position and towards the door. It slowly opened and revealed Annabeth. Her hair was messily braided. Her heart covered pyjamas dishevelled.

“Hey, Dmitri.” She said slowly. It was obvious that she had been crying. She moved to step forward before she hesitated, her stance suddenly defensive with her hand on her elbow.

“Are you okay? I’ve heard you’ve been missing classes, and you don’t look so good.”

“I’ll be okay. I’m just,” she hesitated again. “I’m being transferred. Into a prestigious academy. In America of all places!”

“But?”

“But, I’m going to miss you all.” Her voice trailed off. Another stream of tears began to well in her eyes.

“I know.” He stepped into her and wrapped his arms around her. He opened his mouth before his watch began to chime. He cursed under his breath. “Damn, I’m running late. I promise we’ll talk, okay?”

She nodded in his embrace before they parted ways. Dmitri moved to the elevator as she stood outside her open door. As the elevator doors closed, he got a bad feeling in his gut. Like he wouldn’t see her again. 


End file.
